


God Closed the Door and Left the Window Open

by Juzosuke-Ishimondo (Aster_Nightingale)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: I dunno where I was going with this originally, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Trans Owada Mondo, Violent Thoughts, i'm kind of just projecting and spilling thoughts all over this, iimplied sexual assult, no actual self harm just thoughts of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:48:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aster_Nightingale/pseuds/Juzosuke-Ishimondo
Summary: He put his hands on her neck and squeezed and felt the air leave his lungs.
Relationships: Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	God Closed the Door and Left the Window Open

**Author's Note:**

> Let me start off saying I am not proud of this. I forgot where I was going from the first paragraph and just dumped whatever came to mind after. Whatever this is, I hope it is entertaining at least. A lot of this is intrusive thoughts.

Sometimes he wondered why he was born. He looked down at his hands. They were covered in small scars from fighting people and breaking things and fighting things and breaking people. They weren't the fragile soft hands that held his mother's when they walked down the street. They weren't the clean hands that gave his dog pets after it came back with the paper. His hands were calloused and no matter how hard he scrubbed, the blood never came off. 

He stared at the knife as he chopped vegetables. Kiyotaka was spending the night and he offered to cook dinner. When his mother was still alive, she taught him how to cook. In Japan, it was normal for mothers to teach their daughters how to cook. That was one of the more normal parts of his childhood. He changed it all by just being himself. As he stared at the knife, he saw his old reflection in the blade. He saw himself take the knife and cut the flesh off his own arm like he did the skin off the onions. He saw himself chop his fingers like leeks. He saw himself take it and carve out his guts like he would a pumpkin for Halloween. 

"Mondo? Are you okay?" 

He blinked. Ah, right. He was supposed to be chopping up veggies. 

"Er, yeah. Sorry. Was I spacin' out awhile?" 

Kiyotaka shook his head. "No, you had a strange look on your face. I was worried about you." 

That wasn't surprising. When he had thoughts like that before, Daiya had said the same thing. Hell, their mother had said the same thing before. He could still hear her voice. "You're thinking of something unladylike again, aren't you, Nyoko?" 

God, he hated that name. Nyoko wasn't much when she was alive. She was a weak, fragile girl. The kind of girl who cried easily. The kind of girl who wore boy's clothes to hide her curves so people wouldn't stare at her. The kind of girl who was never a girl at all but who nature betrayed. Before he came out, the guys in the gang would always talk about how pretty he was. One time one of them got too handsy. That guy never did learn how to write quite right again after Daiya broke his hand. Sometimes he can still feel those hands on his waist traveling down to his hips and running dirty nails down his back. Sometimes Kiyotaka's hands feel like their hands. He pushes Kiyotaka away those days, and the hall monitor apologies, but he has nothing to apologize for. It's all his fault for being born Nyoko Oowada. 

He had a dream once that he was strangling his old self. She scratched at his hands, punched him in the face, sobbed and begged for him to let go, but he didn't. He just squeezed harder and harder on their throat. He could feel his own close up, but he kept going. His vision became dotted and distorted, but he kept going. He felt like he was about to pass out when the pressure on his throat went away, and when he could see, he saw his brother's body in his arms. He woke up screaming. 

He finished up cooking and gave the other a kiss on the cheek. "Ya didn' almost burn the kitchen down this time, love." He couldn't resist teasing him. 

Predictably, his face went red and he sputtered a bit before sighing. "I suppose...but I'm glad I'm getting better!" 

He smiled and ruffled his hair. Kiyotaka was good at a lot of things, but cooking was not one of them. He only ever made rice and green tea before they started dating, and after he almost set Mondo's apartment on fire by making toast, Mondo decided to teach him a bit. It took awhile, but now he could make somewhat decent ochazuke...without fish, but it was still pretty good. 

"Yeah, ya really are. C'mon, make yer tea while I set the table, okay?" 

Kiyotaka beamed and went to go make his drink. Mondo didn't drink a lot of tea, and he wasn't tonight, but he liked Kiyotaka's. Maybe it was simply because the other made it. Moving on from that thought, he set the table, but before he could finish, he accidentally dropped a plate on his foot. 

"Shit." 

"Ah! Mondo, are you alright?" They both looked down. His foot was bleeding, and there were china shards all around him. He didn't really feel it though. "You're bleeding. Let me clean this up, and I'll-" 

"Nah, 't's fine. Don' worry bout it." 

"Are you sure? I'm worried it-" 

"Said 't's fine." 

Kiyotaka stared at him for a long moment before sighing. "At least wash it, please? I don't want it to get infected." 

He nodded and went to the bathroom. He wiped off the blood to get a better look. It wasn't deep. Hell, it would probably be fine tomorrow. Still, he washed the wound and put bandaids on it to keep the other from worrying too much. Kiyotaka always fussed over every little wound he had. Maybe it was because he got into a lot of fights, but the other would go full nurse the second something started bleeding. He remembered an incident before he came out to the other when his cycle came back because he had accidentally forgotten to get a refil of hormones on time. The other spent an hour begging him to tell him why there was so many bloody bandages in the bathroom. He groaned as the memory washed over him. There were worse ways of coming out to the guy you were dating, but there were not many to top that. 

When he got back, the other had set the table and smiled at him as he finished sweeping up the broken plate. "Was your cut very deep?" 

"Nah, should be fine by tomorrow. 'll take care of that. Come eat already." 

The other frowned but complied with the request. They didn't say anything over the meal. They simply enjoyed each other's company as they ate. When they finished, Kiyotaka insisted on cleaning up the kitchen. 

"You did the majority of the cooking. It would be wrong of me to let you clean up as well." 

He sat on the couch and waited on the other to get done. There was a show on tv. Something weird about brothers and hunting? He wasn't really into it, but some of the guys in the gang liked watching it even if they said the writing sucked. 

He hated tv. Every time he turned it on, there was something else about standards of beauty for men and women alike. While he managed to fit into the male standard that he set for himself based off of his brother, his younger, uncracked egg self would always be made to feel self conscious. Nyoko was never a feminine girl, but everyone, aside from Daiya, wanted her to be. She was pretty, sure, but everyone around her wanted her to be more so. She never did though. She couldn't. She would never be what they wanted because it wasn't a role she could fill as a man. 

He wondered if that was why any thought of being feminine scared him. There was nothing wrong with femininity. Actually, there was somethings he missed about it such as being able to be open about feelings other than anger or slight joy, but after being forced into a mold of it for his entire childhood before his parents kicked him out for being a boy, he resented it when anything like that reflected onto him. In others, he had no issue with it, but when it came to himself, anything less than the completely masculine persona he made from watching his brother was unacceptable. Sometimes, he hated the person he became more than the person he was, and other-times, it was the opposite. Sakura and Chihiro both suggested he find a balance between the two, but he wasn't sure if there was one anymore. He just hoped one day he could look in the mirror and not see her or the angry caricature of real masculinity that he became. 

The other sat beside him and worked on homework. "You should do your homework, too. I don't want you to fall behind."

He sighed and went to get his own books to appease him. Kiyotaka was the only one that made him care about whether or not he wasted his time. He did before. Before Daiya died, he cared more about his future. He had wanted to be a carpenter then, too, and Daiya encouraged him. He studied it, practiced, and he was really good at it back then, too. But then, Daiya died because of him, and he made sure to destroy every trace of those days with his bare hands. He wanted to erase it all: all the good memories, all the joy, all the love, and all the time they spent together because it hurt so much to smile at that with his brother's blood on his hands and clothes staining the ground beneath them and turning the white jackets they loved so much an ugly shade of red. He burned his, but he couldn't bear to do that to Daiya's. He put it up and kept it hidden in a closet after spreading his brother's ashes.

He finished his work soon after the other. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't an idiot. He just didn't care about this sort of thing. His parents did. They cared about this kind of stuff more than he liked to think about. He remembered Daiya talking about all the private tutors and all the time he spent studying and working out just to live up to their parent's expectations of him as a man. As their daughter, he was expected to live up to certain standards as well. Luckily for him, he came out to Daiya and they ran away before things got too much, but the constant strive for perfection, getting yelled at and denied food, being locked out of the house and forced to sleep outside, and being slapped and hit for the smallest mistake all led to him not caring about these sort of things but still being afraid of failing to meet people's expectations of him. So, he lowered their expectations. He made them expect the worse from him on purpose. Only Kiyotaka saw through it. Only Kiyotaka bothered looking past the walls he put up, and that's why he didn't mind trying again...at least, a little.

When they were done, Kiyotaka stared at him. "Somethin' up, babe?"

"I know I'm not very good at reading other people's emotions, but I know when you're upset. Mondo, tell me what's wrong!"

He thought for a moment. The past replayed itself over and over again in his head. His thoughts, his memories, his feelings for the other and himself all swirled in his mind. What was wrong with him? He wasn't quite sure if he could say it was one thing that was wrong with him. If he asked himself that question, he would answer that everything is wrong with him. Every little thing from how he looked to the first time he opened his eyes was wrong with him. He could kick, scream, fight, and hurt himself as much as he liked, but it wouldn't change that he had always felt this way and would always feel this way if he didn't overcome it. But he was afraid. Even now, he was still weak and crying and looking to his brother for comfort and advice, but he couldn't anymore and he felt a little lost. 

He sighed and shrugged. "I dunno where to start."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please leave a kudos or a comment. Thank you for reading. ^_^


End file.
